


The Uninvited

by FalCatrecon



Category: North Beach (2000)
Genre: F/M, Psychic AU, rambling a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-11 14:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19540813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalCatrecon/pseuds/FalCatrecon
Summary: For the @nongaberichbang bingo square ‘psychic au’chapter 2: for @mfkinkbingo square 'psychic sex'-----Pete scribbled a new line of words into his notebook accompanied by a handful of messy music notes. He’d figure them out better later when he was more away from people. As it was the drugs were barely working. At least he was in the middle of friends at this bar so the minds were all well-traveled sets of thoughts. He grinned to himself when he felt Wendy’s thoughts on him, though she was talking to a gaggle of girlfriends. He quickly flipped to a more different page, tossing words down and around to just get them out of his head.





	1. The Uninvited

Pete scribbled a new line of words into his notebook accompanied by a handful of messy music notes. He’d figure them out better later when he was more away from people. As it was the drugs were barely working. At least he was in the middle of friends at this bar so the minds were all well-traveled sets of thoughts. He grinned to himself when he felt Wendy’s thoughts on him, though she was talking to a gaggle of girlfriends. He quickly flipped to a more different page, tossing words down and around to just get them out of his head.

He had never met anyone like himself, but he was sure his brain wasn’t built for this. It was a constant feeling of overflow, too much information. He tried so very hard to shut them all out at first, build a wall like those scifi stories he had read once. Never seemed to work. The drugs drowned them out, threw them into a haze of noise and let him think for a bit on his own. Honestly he wasn’t sure if he’d ever know if he met someone like him, would he be able to tell? Or would he just get what he already heard amplified so just another pile of voices inside the pile of voices and no way to sort it all out. Time and familiarity certainly let him pick out his friends, the way you could tell a person’s voice in a crowd, but he tried not to actually listen. Privacy and all, you know?

His absolute best and favorite solution was getting people to think roughly the same things all together. Movies and music did wonders, though theaters were kind of a mess. He sometimes got bits of the neighboring movie, but at least it was only a couple of thought threads piled together rather than everyone everywhere. But music. He hummed a bit to himself and flipped back to the first page, adding a couple more notes. Everyone had music in them somehow. A touch of poetic turn to their thoughts that they immediately forgot, a song stuck in their head that wasn’t right but man was it a good tune. He skimmed for these, throwing them down in a jumble to sort out later.

The city sucked for later, too many people crammed together, but he couldn’t leave. Too many people here, his band here, his friends here, Wendy here. So even though his brain felt like bursting he stuck around. His job sometimes had empty space, no one needing prescriptions and no one in the stores next door. He could breathe then, make sure what he thought and felt were himself and not just someone else.

But anyway music. His shows got people all on the right wavelength, all following the pattern of the music together. It was even more unifying than the movie plot things, because those reminded people of other things. Music had a way of flowing your mind along with it, bringing an entire crowd of people together as one. He still got bits and pieces of other things of course, people had a surprising way of multi-line thinking, and it was probably his saving grace of not going completely insane that he could do it too. The music when played loud enough seemed to cover even the neighboring buildings so that his brain could just smooth along the well-worn path that he built.

Brains were built for finding patterns, so giving someone a pattern had them almost immediately follow it. Predictive text kinda thing, but with thoughts. So like you start counting 1,2,3,4 people will always have a 5 in their mind without trying, and some even just kept counting in the background for awhile without even thinking about it. Also yell loud enough about not thinking about something they probably would. His biggest problem was that people’s minds weren’t just words. That might have been easier but no, pictures too. Too many images, thoughts, sounds, smells, just too much. It was good most people lived in the moment so he got the same sounds and smells and general impression from everyone that matched his own.

He loved/hated creative people. Especially in large groups. Nothing matched ever unless they were working with the same prompt and even then… He hated how messy his mind got but it was all so beautiful too. He wished he could draw sometimes but he would never be able to put that on paper fast enough to make sense to anyone, even him. He had tried but it got weirdly layered and impressionistic and he couldn’t remember what half of it was supposed to be. Music though, could have layers. An angry base for the neighbor while the words were, hey we need milk, but the main guitar was speaking love that the heart felt, and all of it blending into a good song. Just like that.

He heard love projected at him and he snapped his eyes up, straight into Wendy’s. Oh yeah, so perfect. He loved hearing that, would never stop loving to feel it. She hopped down from the bar stool she was on to come steal a kiss. He didn’t want to let go and she didn’t want to go, but he could hear her thoughts still lingering on the conversation she’d been having. But he could also hear just how much she wanted to go back to the apartment with him. He would love to drown in her thoughts again. Sex made his brain focus, drag singularly down into a pinpoint of bodily feeling and echoing the one he was focused on. She was especially good, the heart love and the body love and the mind love all being different things so taking up different mind tracks but all being the same thing so unifying. He was pretty sure he loved her too all on his own, not just echoing her. He had even taken the time to get away from all of the noise and really think about it. He did, he loved her too. It was wonderful to be absolutely sure of his own thoughts sometimes.

Wendy pulled away with a sigh and a pat of his hand. Damn, she made the decision to stay at the bar for now. Which was fine. He understood doing stuff for friends and all. He could still hear the echo of what she wanted though, and he hauled her down for one last kiss before letting her get back to her friends. He turned to still another page in his notebook to carefully add a few more lines to the face study sketch he had of Wendy. Not much but he still arted occasionally if he could focus. Which wasn’t much or for long so it was normally a sketch of a friend or most of the time Wendy. He was sure he could hear her even outside his normally hearing range at this point.

He wondered where he left his last batch of speed or weed. He could feel a crash coming on, but not for another couple of hours. He hated sleeping. He was bad enough sorting awake, but his sleeping mind just grabbed anything and everything and tossed it into a blender. It was an ant-race of feelings and pictures and words and sounds and smells and touch even. Just nothing made sense at all and made sleep feel like a nightmare without actually being particularly scary. Never rested unless he crashed, which he knew wasn’t good for his body but seriously, how else could he make the world shut up? 

He didn’t want to be away from all his people, but maybe when he got older, if he managed to get older, he’d go run off into the forest for a few days, see what actual quiet felt like. Or at least he hoped he would. Sometimes he wondered if a couple of the weirder buried thoughts at the bottom of all the layers weren’t the rats in the walls or something. That would be another type of noise out in the wilderness, definitely. No matter the absolute torture humanity was sometimes at least he was used to this one.

Flipping back to the song pages he scribbled the whole torture of sounds thing down. Wasn’t sure what to do with it but hey, sounded cool. A trail of music drifted from a pair down the bar, sounded familiar but not right so he jotted the notes down. Yeah, yeah, those went together pretty good. He tapped a base-line on the table as he jotted down time signatures and how fast it should be played. Maybe mix some of that shit from yesterday… He flipped back a couple of pages and circled the part he was thinking of, noting next to it the other page and sound torture. He’d figure it out later and make sense of it. Future him was always good with that.

He gave a soft sigh as someone put a song on the jukebox. The pressure lessened as most of the underthoughts became the music together. The top thoughts were still whatever they were talking about but brains and patterns man, brains and patterns. He turned back to his art of Wendy, adding the right shape to her eyes when she smiled so happily at him. Yeah, just like that. The right curve of the mouth too, a soft smile of love.

He snuck a glance at Wendy, finding her still mostly distracted with the girls, though he could still, if he tried, hear a little of him in her mind. He grinned and changed pages again, adding that turn of phase. Hear a little of him in her mind. Nice. He was pretty sure by what he could hear she wanted a lot of him in her but that would be later whenever she thought she had socialized enough with the others. He eyed his empty drink in front of him, having forgotten the glass until now. He wanted more, alcohol dulled the noise, but it dulled other things too and if he wanted to keep that promise he had kissed into her lips he probably shouldn’t.

He tapped along to the song, shutting his notebook and turning to put his attention on Wendy. He wouldn’t bother her, he wasn’t demanding if he could help it, but he was trying to subtly show that he was ready to leave. Not that it was easy to be subtle and he wasn’t sure if he was succeeding in either direction. She did wink at him though, so that was a start. He tried to focus on her but not invading exact thoughts, trying to reach those bits about him and later. Maybe he could figure something new out she might like and follow her mental lead like he liked to.

She loved not having to say anything to him, letting him have control, but she had every second of control she just didn’t know it. He followed her mind and what she wanted when and where and it all flowed together into a wonderful feeling of together and warmth and pleasure and not much else. He could just feel, not think and it was ecstatic. God he wanted her now because she wanted him and those feelings were always so perfect, so much love and she was so happy then. He wanted to make sure she was always happy.

He hated all the negative feelings that flowed in all spaces, he wanted to fix them. He could, sort of, temporarily, hence the music. Then they felt the music and whatever reactions that held which was rarely bad. He could always tell when people didn’t like his songs obviously, and much prefered them to be good with them. He honestly didn’t care if he and his band got famous, though moneywise that would be nice. For Wendy too, to make her happy and not have to care about her job and where money went and how it was spent. He winced at himself for that. Drugs weren’t cheap after all, but his brain really needed them. Good thing his own job covered that, and he knew when people weren’t looking his way and just how much to skim to be able to get away with basic ‘oops shortage’ loss. What he couldn’t or didn’t use he sold for more cash which helped pay for more of his kind of drugs and part of the band fees and food and sometimes rent but mostly rent to Wendy who’s couch or bed he crashed on pretty often. Tyler’s was the next best place but only when he had pissed off her neighbors with his guitar again.

Man, he so wanted to go back with her right now and he could hear her mind coming back to him again and again even through whatever her and her friends were chatting about. She finally _finally_ gave the motions and noises of goodbye to the gaggle and came over to wrap her arms around his neck. “Home?”

“Hell yes.” He nodded enthusiastically and hauled her up, remembering to snag his notebook on the way. He tried to kiss her constantly as they headed out the door, but walking and making out never really worked well no matter how many times he tried. It made her giggle inside though and that made him happy. Wendy was so very perfect in so many ways and he was glad she found him.


	2. BINGE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the @mfkinkbingo square 'psychic sex'
> 
> \-------
> 
> The way home was filled with constant noise inside and out, but he took every chance he got to steal another kiss from Wendy’s lips. Soft thoughts of love and promises echoed from her every time and it was wonderful. He really wanted to just catch her here in the way, weirdly finding when others caught sight of them it rolled the thoughts into a manageable set, as it was roughly the same as the other people watching. At the same time he didn’t really like being watched closely and there was that one time it was a really violent watcher, he didn’t know who, so he tried not to stop so much anymore.

The way home was filled with constant noise inside and out, but he took every chance he got to steal another kiss from Wendy’s lips. Soft thoughts of love and promises echoed from her every time and it was wonderful. He really wanted to just catch her here in the way, weirdly finding when others caught sight of them it rolled the thoughts into a manageable set, as it was roughly the same as the other people watching. At the same time he didn’t really like being watched closely and there was that one time it was a really violent watcher, he didn’t know who, so he tried not to stop so much anymore.

He did keep his hands constantly on her though, keeping her thoughts on him. Oh they still wandered as all people did, multilayered thoughts as brains do. But the important part was on his hands now, the next layer on what they were going to do. The lower layer was how to get home, don’t step on that trash, don’t walk into the person. There was an even lower layer that was the barest beginning of hunger, so probably he’d have to remember to snag something from the fridge afterwards for her.

He twitched a bit as a grosser mind scraped across his. His girl wasn’t to be objectified, she was a person and a wonderful joyous one at that. He was honestly glad she couldn’t hear anything like he could. He’d never want to subject her to the lowest level of thoughts humanity could dredge up. It wasn’t always her to be fair, he got his own, uh, admirers. Groupies too but that was his music and Wendy was always at the shows anyway so he focused on her and her mind. Still the echos.

Stealing another kiss, they turned into the apartment entryway. He pulled her to him, against the door, since she had the key. She giggled as she blindly tried to find the keyhole, and he could feel her mirth fill his mind. She pushed her hips meaningfully against his as the key filled the lock, and some part of her brain, and his, building it as a metaphor. Oh man, he hoped he could remember that later, it was a great phrase. The last time he had tried to write things down this far into the makeout he had pissed her off and he hated that feeling. She still loved him, adored him, and a tiny part of her thought it was cute, but the higher parts of her brain didn’t like getting interrupted and frankly neither did he.

She finally managed to get the door open and they nearly fell in, laughing like teenagers. He could feel one of the neighbors across the hall was home and a vague annoyance filter in. At least he was over there and wouldn’t hear them. He hated upset neighbors when they were having sex. It just ruined the undercurrent of the mood. Neither on each side were home, and the downstairs one was an interesting one. Didn’t get upset, kinda liked the idea of what they were doing, but didn’t make it weird. Or at least not too weird. He was super glad the upstairs one had moved out. He had tried to jack off with them and that was a hard no. Wendy hadn’t understood why he had stopped that time but banging on the ceiling had startled the guy bad enough he didn’t do it again. Confused the hell out of Wendy though.

They quickly shut the door behind them, and he in turn pinned Wendy against the inside of the door as he locked it. He had felt her wanting to be in his place outside, so he would give her some of that. They had door sex once, it wasn’t the best, but the _idea_ still left her wanting more even if the smaller bits of her mind reminded her how it had turned out. And the locking was important. Sometimes friends didn’t knock, and that wasn’t fun all around. Multiple people surprised and embarrassed made his head hurt, plus they had to stop.

He mouthed the side of her neck, which she loved the feeling of. He was good and didn’t leave marks, since she hated those. Liked the idea, he could hear that, but hated them the one time he listened to that part of her mind. Her hands ran up under his jacket, her mind screaming _off_ long before the breathy, “Off,” escaped her lips. He had already started to shrug it off, though tried his best to keep his lips on hers. He could feel her smile on his lips and in his mind. Always the little things that made her happiest. Grand stuff, like flowers or whatever made her happy too, but he caught her remembering the small things like trying to keep their lips together. Oh, he still did the bigger things sometimes because yay relationships and making her happy, because she _noticed_ the big things even if she didn’t reminisce about them.

He managed to wrangle his shirt off too, and reached out to help with hers. He frowned slightly at her bra, but they did make her breasts look awesome. They looked even better out of it. She already had hands on his chest as he tugged her towards the bedroom where it was a whole lot more comfortable. They had sex in a lot of places throughout the apartment and all of it was awesome, but bed sex, man, it was so much better! It could be just about anything but almost always comfortable. Well, unless they picked a weird position or something. Her mind was really creative like that, and he loved her all the more for it.

Her mind was wanting to touch his ass, so he hauled her closer, loving her pressed against him. As expected her hands wandered under the edge of his pants, leaving light trails with her nails. He shivered, but used her body against his to reach the back of her bra and fumble around to unhook it. He hated the things so much, he’d totally just try to get her to not wear one. Except it would mean all those weird thoughts from strangers would get weirder and he hated that more. Also they gave her awesome cleavage he liked to lay on.

He pulled his focus as best he could on her mind and what she wanted, trying to drown out the tiny bits and pieces of neighbors further away. Most were watching tv, so it wasn’t too terrible. Her hands slid forward and he leaned just far enough back so she could reach his pants button. He had managed the hooks so he tugged the bra forward too, though let it dangle off her wrists. She laughed and he grinned in response, letting his thumbs skate across her nipples. She liked that, and so did he. Once she popped the button she moved her arms to drop the bra, so he took his chance and leaned in. The trembling tingle echoed through her and out to him, the gasp of air louder in his mind than his ears. She dug her nails into his shoulders, though not too hard. He liked the way they felt, no question, but he had to ask her not to so hard. Hard to explain that he lost the pain in the midst of the pleasure and showing up with real scratches to work wasn’t a good thing, but he managed. He liked her marking him as her’s though, as much as she liked the idea.

Maybe it was because she liked it that he did, another of those mind things he got, but at least he knew the love was his as much as hers. He left a trail of soft kisses back up to her mouth, his hands working on her pants now, as her hands tugged his off his hips. Her fingertips brushed her goal, and he couldn’t help the moan of his own into her mouth. She adored making him feel good, so he always tried to show it as much as he could. Not too loud. Not that she realized that, but somewhere something got in her mind guys shouldn’t be too loud, but maybe a little loud. Either way it made her feel good and think happy thoughts, and that made him feel awesome.

He shifted his attention to her earlobe, nibbling just along the edge, sending so many more breathy shivers through her. They vibrated down the line, echoing and covering the tiny sounds of tv and sleep. He turned so she could steal a kiss, tugging down her pants now that he got the button free. He could feel her anticipation as much as her wanting him, and he wanted her so hard. His focus narrowed on her that he could even kind of feel how hard he was in her hand through her hand. She liked that it was her that got him that way. And it was always her. He really wasn’t sure anyone else had quite echoed in his mind like she ever did.

And to be perfectly honest it wasn’t for lack of trying. Wendy wasn’t his very first girlfriend, but they hadn’t… jived right. Oh he could hear them like the rest of the people, but they were just… maybe not really in love with him. Like one really liked his look but didn’t like hanging out with him. Another liked his music but not much else. The last one just wanted sex and was gone. Wendy though, she _got_ him, she _loved_ him. He could feel it, hear it in every atom of their shared space. He deepened the kiss, letting her suck on his tongue like she was imagining it was his dick. And those thoughts more than the feeling had him pushing her towards the bed proper. They’d been standing far too long.

He made sure she knew where the bed was, as surprising her surprised him too. It broke the mood for a second, which included his concentration. She could get back on track in nothing flat, but it took him a moment to zero in on her again. He laid her out, scooting her up onto the bed so he could kneel between her legs. He kissed her softly again, lingering. She liked him when he was soft. Sometimes she liked rough but not that often, and never to start. She laughed, something not quite sex related in her mind. Ah. He reached up in his hair and tossed his sunglasses aside. He’d find them later. She in turn dug her fingers into his hair, letting it fall into his face, her fingers trailing along his jaw. She liked his hair and his goatee, which he had before because he liked the way it looked. He also liked the way her fingers felt touching him. Touch was awesome, something only he was really feeling. No weird double echo or anything. Well, a little bit because he was focused so much on her he could kinda feel his face through her but still the main feeling was his.

He let his fingers run along her skin, loving the softness that was simply her. He loved the way sex felt and he had been on and off trying his best to capture it in some sort of song. The quick thumping drum of the heart, the low rolling baseline of the want and need. Fingers tickling flesh like ivory as his lips strummed against her nipples, higher notes of the musical melody. Fingers running lower now, a good long _slide_ of a note, a moan in his head with a faint one by his ear. The voice of the song was of a bundle of words, wantneedinnowcondompetfuckme all piled somehow into a single word and he didn’t know quite how she did it or how to put that one paper. Wait, one word didn’t belong. Right. Right! He trailed another couple of kisses before reluctantly pulling away. He hated that, he could feel her sort of bereft feeling, lack of touch. But that word was important, no need to pass this mental shit on.

Digging around the drawer finally netted the neat little package, and he hauled his spoils back to her. She giggled at his triumphant expression, which is why he wore it, he knew what made her laugh when. He settled on his knees, her thighs propped up against his with a grin. She was proud he remembered, not that he actually did, happy that he would do this for her. He did it for both of them, because regardless of how people saw him he’d never just ditch a kid. Loved her far too much to do that, and was at least kinda responsible sometimes. Anyway, that was a never thing, and now was a good thing, a fun thing. A _love_ thing.

Her fingers trailed his shaft to nestle at his base and massage, ostensibly to help keep him hard while he rolled the rubber on. He relished the touch and she relished giving it so he wouldn’t ever tell her she didn’t have to do that. He could feel her memories of what was to come, how he felt inside her. He had his own echos to contend with and all of that added up to want and need and _hard_. Hell, he’d been near hard ever since the bar and her thoughts had gone to him. She was everything he’d ever want. 

He settled around her, lips on hers, a hand massaging a breast, the other reaching between them, helping open. She didn’t technically need it but she liked his fingers nearly as much as his dick so giving her both was awesome. What little he accidentally picked up from other guys having sex, they ended up rushing things according to their girlfriends. Probably because they didn’t get feedback quite like he did. All his strokes and touches and presses sent shivers and sensations through her, and through him. He felt his fingers nearly as much as she did, he knew just the right finger placement to draw out another moan and he shivered along with her.

Her hips rolled with his fingers, inching higher, wanting more. He lowered himself, aligned himself, slowly entered. _Finally_ echoed through both their minds, though he knew she enjoyed every second before. The wet he could feel, even if he couldn’t. The press against himself from outside and inside from himself was everything, feeling filled and covered as he sunk further, resting hips against hips. She softly sighed, her knees hitching up to let him fill just a bit more. A single moment of _perfect_ before the want began anew.

Move was the single thought between the two of them, and he followed it, slow at first. Achingly so, feeling each and every millimeter of movement as he slid out, just as slow back in. Her low moan met his mind before his ears, and he softly echoed it. He felt a thrill from her at his noise, knowing she was making him feel good too. And she was, she always did. Her mind was focused solely on their movement together, the touches he ghosted along her skin, the way his breath danced across her collarbone. She just _wanted_ , no other thought, just like his own mind. Everything focused on here and now, just them, just their minds. Sometimes some days they were a bit more scattered, wanting something different to shake up routine. But tonight she wanted the togetherness the _us_ of sex.

Their pace slowly built, the tempo of their hips going from largo to allegro, until it was the beat of their bodies that consumed their minds. He could feel the pleasure building, their muscles tightening as the pleasure crescendoed. He could feel them both building together, pleasure pooling in all their points of contact. He curled closer, his head resting on her shoulder as her nails dug into his back, the high sharpness of the pain a blessed counterpoint to the low roil of the build. He dug his fingers into her hips, pulling her tight against him, as deep as he could push. He moaned softly against her neck, feeling the tight shiver of her ecstasy around him, around his mind, feel himself pulse deep in her. Small things drifted through, the feel of his hair against her collarbone, simply the air of the apartment drifting across her bare breast. He could feel the same across his back, the points where her nails dug in still stinging softly. Everything was alight in the last sparkings of pleasure, oversensitive. He made sure to lightly roll his hips, milking the feeling for all it was worth. Her shuttery gasps were worth it, his own joining in deeper counterpoint. Muscles twitched against him, in him, through him. He lightly trailed kisses along her neck, staying seated for as long as possible. He loved her feeling of full even more than his own feeling of filling.

He very lightly nipped the spot right behind her ear with a soft, “Mine.”

He could hear her mind giggle just a little, even if she didn’t quite have the energy to do so out loud. His fingers tangled tight into his hair again and she answered, “Mine.”

Their quick panting turning slowly to normal breathing, but he didn’t want to let go. Neither did she, and they clung to each other as long as possible. HIs breath matched hers, his mind still entwined deep, still feeling their bodies and touches all at the same time. Unfortunately, and he hated this part, the little noises of the city were drifting back in, outside and in. The far neighbor had turned off his tv and had decided on a snack, and another one had drifted into a series of dreams. He tried to drown himself again with a peppering of kisses, and that did at least earn him a smile and hands stroking his back. Her thoughts were mostly on him, on how warm he was and how comforting his weight on her was. But she was getting a touch chill, and a bit sticky. So was he, to be fair. He sighed softly against her neck, tightening his hold before finally starting to get up. He could feel her answering sigh, the don’t go but a returning too of normal thoughts. A pile of what needs to maybe be done in the rest of the day, a quick rinse off may be nice. Her mind was already saying with him long before her eyes met his. “Shower with me?”

“Hell yeah.” He grinned and took her hand, hauling her to her feet. She liked that he could do that. He stole himself another kiss before letting her go first. He could hear her thoughts already on the warm water, but still lingering deep in what they had just done. And while he was positive she wasn’t psychic he could feel she knew he was staring at her ass. Which he was. It was a nice ass. He pulled off and tied off the condom, throwing it away in the bedroom trash can. It wasn’t that she hated seeing him do that, but it wasn’t exactly interesting either. It just interrupted her soft thoughts of sex, bath, and snuggles. She always liked cuddling too, unless she had to clean the apartment or something. He couldn’t, and she couldn’t, remember a chore that needed to be done so that meant more touches, more together.

As she leaned over the tub to turn on the shower he let his fingers dance along her tailbone. He could feel the spark of laughter in her mind, and another interested spark under that. She thoroughly enjoyed everything he did, and was constantly surprised by how much he liked touching her, making her feel good. She reciprocated as much as she could, and he couldn’t quite express to her just how much her feeling good made him feel good. Being linked mentally wasn’t exactly a common thing. He’d probably pet her again in the shower, since she could recuperate so much faster than his body, and then maybe they would do something on the couch after watching a show or movie. He loved the way she felt under his touch, how her mind focused so much on him and the feeling and made all the other noises just go away. He loved how she was happy with him, how he was able to make her feel that way.

She was his and he was hers. Her mind noise he was always tuned into, listening for. He hated having to go elsewhere, and she hated him leaving. Both had work, had friends, had obligations not each other and understood that, but, he almost wished his mind could reach a little farther, find her wherever she was. At the same time since he couldn’t block anything, he was glad his reach wasn’t that far. The level of voices were already too much, too many. Even now his fingers twitched for his notebook as he stepped into the shower.

He let his twitchy fingers dance across her skin again as the water raced with them, just how she liked it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover for The Uninvited](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19805263) by [WarlockWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockWriter/pseuds/WarlockWriter)




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